Family Obligations
by nearsightedness
Summary: Isshin is laissezfaire. Ulquiorra is... Ulquiorra. Byakuya is Ulquiorra, too. Yuzu is in love. Ichigo feels like he's the only sane on around. Incomplete


The Kurosaki family kitchen resounded with the sounds of the joyous soliloquizing of one Kurosaki Isshin, ex-shinigami, currently general doctor, and father of three. "Oh, I'm so happy!" Isshin cried, hands clasped together, smile impossible broad and shining. "Masaki, aren't you glad too, that one of our children has finally found true lo—" There was a thud, and Isshin went reeling to the side. His son, Ichigo, stood beside him, fist outstretched, eyes wide and blazing, orange hair practically standing on end in anger. From the corner, a pale-skinned man watched; his eyes, the colour of acidic jade, were bored, and the display of violence didn't even make him blink. The fluorescent light of the Kurosaki home's kitchen cast the whole scene in harsh, unforgiving light; Ulquiorra's mask glinted half-heartedly, and Isshin's coat was gleamingly white.

"THIS ISN'T FUNNY, OLD MAN!" roared Ichigo, while Isshin rubbed his reddened jaw. "That—that _thing_ over there—" The younger Kurosaki waved his other hand in the direction of the arrancar, his hand fluttering madly like laundry in the wind. "He's—he's—"

"He's ploughing darling Yuzu's fields, yes!" cried Isshin, his grin only broadening. Ichigo's hair seemed to wilt, and he emitted a choked whimper of horror, backing away, eyes going from narrowed in anger to wide in a mixture of disgust, embarrassment and shock. Ulquiorra merely quirked an eyebrow. "Oh, isn't it wonderful!" continued Isshin. "I was so worried that Yuzu would never find herself a man, or maybe that she liked women! Which would be very sad, what with you and Karin both being gay, so the Kurosaki line would ha—"

This time, Isshin doubled over as Ichigo kicked him in the stomach. Wheezing, and planting his hands on his knees, he turned to the side and gave Ichigo a thumbs-up and a breathless "Good one!" He saw a vein in Ichigo's temple throb, and behind him, Ulquiorra's eyebrow quirk _downward_ into a harassed half-frown. Outside, a car passed, and its the glow of its headlights through the unshaded window turned the arrancar's mask into a deformed halo, which Isshin thought was rather pretty. Ichigo, however, didn't seem to notice the bizarre beauty of it. He was too busy shouting again.

"SHUT UP!" was what Ichigo was saying more exactly. Isshin shook his head inwardly. Really, Ichigo had to learn how to take things in stride! If he were just a bit calmer about things, then it wouldn't be necessary for _him_ to pull Ichigo and Ulquiorra apart after having found Ichigo trying to strangle the arrancar in the middle of the kitchen, and afterwards trying to convince the irked espada _not_ to Cero Ichigo into oblivion. _And_ he still had to make Ichigo see sense! Sometimes, thought Isshin, being a father was _so_ complicated. "You oblivious—blind—_idiot_! Can't you see that he's corrupting her? How the hell can you—HOW THE HELL CAN YOU JUST BE SO CASUAL ABOUT THIS?! It's obvious that he's—he's—"

"Yes, it's so easy to see how deeply in love with Yuzu he is!" rhapsodized Isshin, straightening up, brushing dust from his coat. "Ah, young love, how sweet it i—"

"HE'S A GODDAMNED ESPADA!" bellowed Ichigo, his voice breaking it was so loud; Isshin hadn't realized before the sort of decibel levels Ichigo had at his command. His own proud song of fatherly joy didn't stand a chance. "HE'S SERVING THAT BASTARD AIZEN! YOU KNOW, THE BIG BAD ENEMY GUY? Did I say that in words SMALL enough for you to understand?" Ichigo's eyes were narrowed again, practically alight with fury. In his peripheral vision, Isshin saw Ulquiorra roll his eyes and tuck his hands into the pockets of his hakama. Isshin winked at the "goddamned espada" and mouthed _I'll handle this_ as the enraged Ichigo ranted on. "Yuzu is obviously being manipulated and—and HE DOESN'T HAVE A FUCKING HEART! How the hell is he supposed to LOVE her—"

"But Ichigo!" Isshin interrupted, reaching out and planting a hand on Ichigo's shoulder. The physical contact managed to make Ichigo shut up. He tried to take a step back, recoiling from the touch. Isshin just tightened his grip, and caught Ichigo's right wrist when his son sent his fist hurtling towards Isshin's stomach. He looked at his son earnestly. "Yuzu _is_ a shinigami!" he explained. "And an adult, too! You think I don't feel protective towards her? Of course I do! But, why, she's an eighth seat—I think she can make her own decisions, no?"

"She's an eight seat, _in the fourth division_!" snapped Ichigo. He opened his mouth to go on, but Isshin cut across him.

"Do you have anything against the fourth division?" he asked, making his eyes wide with shock and hurt. "Come now, I thought I had raised my son better than to have such petty prejudices against healers!"

"News flash, old man, you didn't raise me well at ALL!"

Gasping, Isshin released Ichigo's shoulder and stumbled backwards. "O—Oh Masaki!" he wailed, turning towards the poster of his wife. "See? See how cruel your son is towards me! He says I didn't raise him prop—auuugh!" This time, it was Ichigo's hand that descended on his shoulder, pulling him backwards and around, so that he was face to livid face with his son.

"_Stop trying to change the subject!_" said Ichigo, his voice choppy and brazen. His nose was practically brushing against Isshin's, and the older shinigami could feel his son's breath ghosting over his jaw. "This is about the fact that _I walked in on that_hollow_ over there kissing my sister!_ Just when I thought I'd seen it all—"

"It's _arrancar_, shinigami," interrupted Ulquiorra. Ichigo turned on his heel, eyebrows snapping together, even as Ulquiorra closed his eyes and looked down, clearly unimpressed. "Not hollow. _Ar-ran-car._ It's only three syllables. Not very difficult to remember. Repeat after me. Ar-ran—"

"SHUT THE HELL UP, _HOLLOW_!" shouted Ichigo, before turning back to Isshin—who shot an apologetic glance towards Ulquiorra, though neither Ichigo's tone nor Isshin's look seemed to register with the arrancar, who merely let out a tiny, long-suffering sigh. "And you! Don't you get it? He's an espada! _He's our enemy!_ He's—"

"I know!" wailed Isshin. Ichigo drew back, both frowning and wide-eyed, mouth opening slightly, clearly taken aback. "It's terrible! Poor Yuzu! Poor Ulquiorra! Their love is so—so tragic! And doomed! Such a doomed, tragic love!" He turned to Masaki again. "Oh, Masaki, you have to help your daughter—otherwise she'll be forever doomed to love somebody who she is forbidden to even speak with in passing!"

Ichigo was shaking his head, as though thinking that in doing so he could shake Isshin's words out of his ears, out of his brain, and erase them from his memory. "You can't be serious. You. Can't. Be. Serious." Isshin brightened suddenly, turning and looking up at Ichigo, eyes widening and lips curling into a grin.

"Oh, but I am! Now, come on, Ichigo—" He grabbed his son's arm, then headed towards the foyer, grabbing Ulquiorra as he went.

"Where the hell are we going?" yelled Ichigo, struggling to free himself from his father's grip. Ulquiorra didn't even bother, just walked briskly to keep from being dragged, as Isshin towed them towards the front door.

"To find your boyfriend!" said Isshin happily. "He's staying at Urahara's, right?"

"My boy... friend... WHAT?!"


End file.
